


It Starts With A Flood.

by Vivthewriter



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2012 Phan, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, M/M, Making Up, POV Phil, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6918244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivthewriter/pseuds/Vivthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scent of another man's aftershave in my - our apartment. The sound of his moans piercing through the paper thin walls making my heart wrench and fold over itself. The constant stream of all of his lovers parading up and down our hallways. I'm trapped. I can't do anything. He dumped me over a technical error on a fucking website. He stole my heart all those years ago and he never gave it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Starts With A Flood.

Our love was oh so strong. Between our computer screens, between miles separating us, between his dimples. We were strong, strong in all aspects. The love we had was something special, truly one in a million. God, I wonder why love is so fickle. I wonder why all situations change at a click of a button - or a snap of a website failure. 

Millions of questions, gossip, and rumors rushing in all at once. I couldn’t control them. He couldn't ignore them. I’m cursing the gods for this one for sure. I don’t know what I believe anymore. Our safety net was snatched and I’m pretty sure we won’t get it back anytime soon.  
The constant screaming words and tears are all at my feet. He doesn't think this affects me too. I can’t gather my thoughts anymore, they’re all tangled up and I can’t unravel them. All the signs said stop but I went on full heartily, sincerely yelling back. If there was a better way to go but right now I can't help it, the road was ripped up from under me. The harsh words that came from our mouths were terrible. I didn't mean any of them, and I prayed he didn't either.  
We're both fucked up. He feels so long gone even if we share the same living space. I gave up my bitterness pretty quickly, but he still held onto his with a death grip. Every word directed to me hurts. My body shakes when I don't want it too. My eyes water up without command. I couldn't help feeling like I lost the best thing in my life. I love him, but right now I'm sure he wishes me dead. 

The scent of another man's aftershave in my - our apartment. The sound of his moans piercing through the paper thin walls making my heart wrench and fold over itself. The constant stream of all of his lovers parading up and down our hallways. I'm trapped. I can't do anything. He dumped me over a technical error on a fucking website. He stole my heart all those years ago and he never gave it back.  
My heart can't take this for much longer. I have to put a happy face and a positive attitude and it's killing me. I'm holding onto the possibility this was one big nightmare and all of this was just a cruel joke from my psyche. I'm not waking up, or at least anytime soon. I can't get a grasp anymore. I cry in spite of myself. I'm pathetic. This isn't right, I feel myself growing colder and my constant denial isn't warming me up.  
Screaming matches turn into passionate kissing. Empty rough hate sex isn't what I want, but it's something. I miss his presence under me, I miss those needy moans knowing I'm causing them. I miss the time when after we're finished we used to spend the rest of the night together instead of me doing a walk of shame back to my bed with my head hung low. I feel emptier every time I leave. I want his warmth beside me, not just a cold patch of the mattress. I love him, I do. But that love isn't desired anymore, I don't ever think it was. 

I'm crying on my mother like I'm a five-year-old. I can't crawl out of this one. Her kind, encouraging words don't provide the same comfort like they used to. I'm an empty shell of myself, I used to not stay up all night crying, I used to genuinely smile, I used to enjoy my existence. I know I can't carry on like this forever. I know he doesn't care about me.  
The mass of drunken texts he sends along with the mass amount of calls. I always go picking him up from the pubs and clubs he got himself drunk at. Thank god the kids who idolize us never saw this side. My attachment to him is getting stronger. Because on those drunken nights, I feel wanted and needed. I crave those feelings again. I've been so dejected, so these moments I cherish, even though I might be holding him up while his puking. He clings onto me while I try to appease him, for a moment, I can delude myself into thinking everything is okay, even through his incoherent mumblings.

-

The first time in months I recognized a slight glimpse fondness in his eyes. It quickly vanished as soon as I truly looked at him. He started to fabricate our lives to make it seem less damning. And frankly, I don't blame him. A couple of white lies won't hurt. Our whole relationship was a lie in front of the public eye anyways. I started to recognize the warmth returning back into eyes when he looked at me. I probably over analyzing, but I don't care.  
Our viewers weren't oblivious to our actions. They observed our every move, some were making insanely erroneous conclusions while others were hitting a little too close to home. And with that more stress was added. I gave up my battle trying to fix it. Who knew those old online safety adverts were true, "once you put something on the internet it's there forever." Dan, on the other hand, was still trying to lie and cover his - our, asses. I would try to talk sense into him, but still at this point talking to him was like talking to a brick wall. You can't reason with hundred of thousands of hormonal teenagers on the internet, you really can't. His determination was something to marvel at.  
Throughout this whole ordeal, I have only seen one emotion from him - anger. I never thought he was upset, or depressed like I am. But today that changed. I came home early from BBC and heard him. Gut wrenching sobs coming from his room. I wanted so bad to break in there and hold him. Hold him like how he likes to be held, run my hands through his hair to soothe him, and give him forehead kisses to make him feel better. But I can't, so I didn't. We weren't boyfriends or best friends, we’re barely are flatmates. I felt a bit sadistic at a point, I pressed up against the wall to hear him more clearly. It was something that made me feel more secure, less pathetic about my uncontrollable bouts of crying. In a sick way, I was happy to know that he wasn't just a ball of anger and he had other emotions. 

I saw him the next morning, I was going to make a comment about our neighbors having loud sex. But before I could open my mouth he practically ran to his room. I just respected that. I became numb. And hey, being numb is a lot less painful than being a walking definition of despair. I came to a point of acceptance, "he hates me, I fucked it up" I said to myself almost every day. Because in reality, it was my fault. I should have deleted that video as soon as I made it. I never understood the concept of regret until now.  
Months passed, videos were made, and the distance was still as thick as ever. I stopped trying to talk a long time ago. I stopped wishing and praying too. He moved on, he had hook ups, drunk party nights, a somewhat active social life. Me? I sat there, numb. Too scared to move on, too heartbroken to give a damn. I always joke about me being a bad actor, but my facade of "happy AmazingPhil" persona was never swayed by my personal fuck-ups. I shouldn't be living with him, it's a constant reminder of how much I'm useless and careless. The only time we speak together now is when we make videos, even then the feeling of absolute disdain coming from him is so noticeable. I'm pretty sure he hasn't looked me in the eyes at all through this.  
I'm not me. I am a different person. I lost all of my gusto, my body is just on auto-pilot. I sit here watching time pass by. In all my life I never truly hated anyone, but I do now, I hate myself. I have no one because I lost my everything. All of those bastards who say "time heals all wounds" are a bunch of damn liars. I rationalize my misery in the most self-destructive ways, and I don't care. 

-

I sat in lounge ready to film another video filled with forced smiles and laughs. When Dan walked in and I saw his face and immediately the mood of the room changed. He looked upset, or may I say, maybe, sad? I learned my lesson, I don't talk before he does. He was looking at the floor as I was trying to catch his eyes into mine. After a few minutes of a failed attempt staring contest, he sat on the floor with his legs tucked under him. His big brown doe-like eyes finally met mine. With one look at him, I could tell he was on the brink of a breakdown. I didn't dare to say anything, let alone express my concern verbally. He let out a shaky laugh before clearing his throat. "I guess eye contact was easier before I went and fucked things up" he began, "and, I guess, friendship could have been easier too." I didn't say anything, I was trying to find the words to speak my mind. But I remained silent. "Listen, Phil, if you can at least hear me out - I, I would really appreciate it" he explained slightly. I found a couple of words in my vocabulary. "Okay, go on then" I mumbled out, I'm sure it was barely audible.

His posture folded as soon as the words left my mouth, shit, did I just fuck up? There was another long pause from him. “I want, I want to, I want us to be, I want to -FUCK!” There it was, the breakdown. He cut himself off and now he’s crying slumped over, back against the couch. Before he stopped himself, I couldn’t tell if he was going to try to tell me he was moving out or that he wanted to get back together. No. It couldn't be the second one, he moved on a long time ago. I hate my brain giving me false hope.  
I directed my attention back to Dan. He wasn’t just crying, he was weeping. I never saw him crying this hard before. I didn’t have time to form a logical fix for this. I just slowly clambered off the couch and got down on the floor. Not too far away, not too close.  
I challenged myself to speak up. “Dan, what’s wrong? Or do you want me to leave?” I whispered out trying not to upset him more. He just looked up and started to shake his head ‘no’. “Phil, I ruined everything, I’m sorry, oh god I'm sorry,” he said between sobs. What? Did He ruin everything? I was the one who made that fucking video, I was the one who could have prevented it. “No, you didn’t ruin anything, I did. - Please don’t cry about it” I tried to say heroically but my voice broke there at the end. I can’t stand to see him cry, it’s one thing to hear but another to witness it. He shot up, “No Phil! You didn’t do anything! I was the who freaked out about it! I was the one who ended our relationship! I was the one who hooked up with random strangers just to forget! I was the one who got shitfaced drunk almost every god damned night! I. ruined. It.” He collapsed back down onto the floor and he pulled his knees up to his chest, holding them tightly. I didn’t realize that I was crying until my tears cooled on my cheeks.  
I never blamed Dan for any of this. I was so blinded by my own self-hatred to consider Dan was at fault….Because he’s not. Why am I so dumb? 

“Dan, this wasn’t your fault. I - I blamed myself for it. But in all realness, neither one of us is to blame. We didn’t make Youtube glitch that day. We could have handled it better, but we didn’t.” I said, I talked so quickly, hopefully, he could understand me. He looked up at me with such disbelief. “What do you mean you blamed yourself?” he questioned. “I blamed myself” I breathed in a bit, “I never hated myself so much in my entire life.” I let out a bitter chuckle when I ended my sentence.  
It broke my heart all over again when I seen how utterly broken Dan looked. “God, please don’t say that you hate yourself, fucking hell, I’m sorry.” he choked out. I didn’t have any more words. I just saw how vulnerable he was. I reached down and took him into my arms. He seamlessly melted into me. I forgot how we fit together like two puzzle pieces. I breathed in his scent, the warm, loving scent of Dan. We sat there like that for what seemed like years. “I missed this” I managed to get out before I totally relaxed into the embrace. “I miss you, I miss us.” He mumbled into my chest. I just nodded in agreeance. Because I did, I miss my Dan, I miss my boyfriend, I miss my best friend, I miss us. 

-

It’s have been a little over a year since that god forsaken glitch that nearly ruined our lives. And I can truthfully say, I’m more in love with Dan after it. We worked it out, and as the time passed our “problem” almost completely dissipated. We both have moved on. And we have moved on together. We both have forgiven and accepted the situation for what it was. Things are still not as picture perfect as I would want them to be, but we’re getting there, together. I’m happy he kept my heart, because as it turns out, I still had his.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is the first fic I wrote in years! Hopefully, it's not too bad. I'm rusty, but I'm pretty proud of it. Please tell me your feedback, good or bad! Thanks.


End file.
